


no crying in skee ball

by hailingstars



Series: we're all gonna be okay (whumptober 2020) [11]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Arcades, Broken Arms, Broken Bones, Gen, Peter is a clumsy idiot, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whumptober 2020, kind of, sequel to the McDonald's fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: “Fun? Look around, Mr. Stark, this isn’t about fun. It’s a mission.”“And what mission is that?”Peter grins and points to the rack holding all the plushies, just above the prize counter in the very center of the arcade. There’s only one giant Iron Man left, and he’s also the most expensive prize, costing more tickets than the prizes Peter’s already got in his basket combined.ORPeter tries winning an Iron Man plushie at an arcade and things get competitive.whumptober day 12: broken bones
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: we're all gonna be okay (whumptober 2020) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947928
Comments: 18
Kudos: 236
Collections: Irondad and his Iron kids





	no crying in skee ball

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy this is kind of a sequel to the McDonald's fic :)

Peter’s surrounded by flashing lights, the zapping of plastic laser guns, and running, screaming children. Normally an environment like this, dozens of blinking screens and a million different sound effects, would drive him into sensory overload. But this just isn’t any place. It’s an arcade, and Peter’s got an unlimited token swipe card and a basket full of already-won prizes to hand out to his family and friends.

He ignores Mr. Stark, who’s trying to get his attention by clearing his throat. Peter’s head is in the game. He’s got one more prize to win, and his score in Demon Hunter 3 is of the utmost importance if he wants to nab the giant Iron Man plushie before the arcade closes.

Mr. Stark nudges his arm. Peter’s hand slips, and he’s killed by one of the demons.

“Really, Mr. Stark,” says Peter. “I almost had the high score _and_ enough points to qualify for fifty tickets.”

With disappointment, Peter watches the machine spit out just thirty tickets.

“If I didn’t know any better,” says Mr. Stark, “I’d say you’re having more fun than the birthday girl.”

Behind Mr. Stark, Pepper is carrying Morgan towards the door of the arcade. She’s passed out, mouth open and drooling on her mother’s shoulder.

“Fun? Look around, Mr. Stark, this isn’t about fun. It’s a mission.”

“And what mission is that?”

Peter grins and points to the rack holding all the plushies, just above the prize counter in the very center of the arcade. There’s only one giant Iron Man left, and he’s also the most expensive prize, costing more tickets than the prizes Peter’s already got in his basket combined.

“You know,” says Mr. Stark. “A smarter person would tell us we could probably just buy the Iron Man plush outright, with cash, if we asked the right employee.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “We have to earn it."

“Don’t you have enough prizes as it is?” asks Mr. Stark. He starts digging around in the basket and pulls out the bunny stuffed animal. It’s wearing a Spider-Man sweater. “Kid?”

Peter snatches it away. “It’s not for me. It’s for MJ.”

He puts it back in the basket where it belongs and picks the basket up by its handle, moving it away from Mr. Stark’s reach.

“Okay,” says Mr. Stark. “But who’s the unicorn poop emoji pillow for?”

“Happy,” says Peter, without blinking.

Mr. Stark laughs, and follows Peter over to the machine he knows will multiply his ticket earnings.

“This isn’t earning it, either,” he tells him. “If you really wanna feel accomplished, why don’t you play me in Skee Ball?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Yep, we have, and you’re scared of getting beat by an old man at Skee Ball.”

“I’m not afraid,” says Peter. “I told you I’d play, under certain conditions.”

“Making me use my left arm is hardly fair.”

“Guess we can’t play, then.” Peter eyes Mr. Stark’s prosthetic arm, super charged the Stark brand of technology.

“I told you, I don’t have an automatic aimer programmed into my arm, whatever that is.” says Mr. Stark. “And technically, we’re even, because you have spider powers.”

“Oh, that’s a fair point.”

“Yep,” says Mr. Stark. He grabs onto Peter’s arm and tugs him away from the easy game and towards the Skee Ball lanes. “So now you’re out of excuses. Time to play.”

“Okay, but I’m pretty good.” Peter swipes his pay card, and Mr. Stark swipes his.

The Skee Ball starting music sounds, the balls get released from the rack, and that’s when the chaos begins. It’s a close game. Too close for Peter’s liking, even though he’s winning, and even though, in the end, he wins the game. There’s not enough space between their scores for him to consider it valid.

“Rematch,” he declares, and ignores the tickets spitting out of the game, as it tallies the scores.

“You won, genius.”

“So,” says Peter. “I want a rematch.”

“You’re a sore winner, that’s worse than being a sore loser, and that’s the gospel truth, because Pepper’s the one who told me.”

They start a new game, but it’s clear almost as soon as it starts that this one isn’t going to play out the way the last one did. Mr. Stark’s up by 500 shots and Peter’s keeps bouncing off the rim. His goal, by the time their down to their last shots, is to close the gap between their scores, but that isn’t what happens.

Peter steps back, trying to gain enough momentum to roll the ball, but instead of the floor his foot comes back down on a plastic ball that had escaped from the ball pit. He loses his balances, falls hard, his body landing awkwardly on his arm and his head hitting the side of the Skee Ball lane.

To Mr. Stark’s credit, he never finishes his game, and instead takes him back to the tower, where the med staff wrap his bloody head wound with a bandage and fit his arm with a cast.

*

“Feeling any better, kid?” asks Mr. Stark, sticking his head into Peter’s room in the Medbay.

“I think it’s almost healed,” says Peter. He lifted his casted arm. “Unlike my pride.”

“Pete… you spent the entire day trying to win an army of stuff animals how much pride did you have in the first place?”

“Not much, I guess,” laughs Peter.

Mr. Stark walks into the room, and when he becomes fully visible, it’s hard not to notice the giant Iron Man plush in his hands.

“You got Iron Man!”

“Yep,” says Mr. Stark. He hands it over to Peter, who accepts it with his good arm, and sits down on the side of Peter’s bed. “After about a thousand games of Skee Ball, I finally won enough tickets.”

“Thanks Mr. Stark.”

“What’s the deal with that thing, anyway?”

“Not every day your d –“ says Peter, stopping, searching for a word that won’t take any more of his nonexistent pride. “Not every day you’re mentor-like person is a plushie.”

“It is, actually,” says Mr. Stark, with a laugh. “So, this was just a payback? For the McDonald’s mission?”

Peter shrugs. “And I just wanted it.”

“Ah, I see, well you’re gonna have to recover quickly for our rematch, so you can properly win a game against your old man.”

“No offense, but I think it’s better if we don’t play for a while.”

“Still afraid of losing then.”

“More like afraid of breaking more my bones.”

They both laugh, and Mr. Stark steals the remote and switches on the TV. They finally settle on Parks and Rec, and Peter spends the next few hours pretending arcades and Skee Ball don’t exist.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! there may not be a fic tomorrow we'll see how it goes lol
> 
> comments and kudos let me know what you think!! <3 <3 <3


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